Why are the “good guys with guns” so sure they're good?
"It's a sin problem," goes the slogan, "not a gun problem." Whatever definition of sin is operative here, it isn't Paul's.
Mass shootings are familiar enough now that the aftermath follows a script. One line you can pretty much count on hearing: It’s a sin problem, not a gun problem. The slogan has been offered to reporters by everyone from church security consultant Mike Gurley to Duck Dynasty’s Si Robertson; it’s been cited in pulpits and letters to the editor across the country.
It’s a distinctly American statement. It takes for granted the relative cultural strength of both gun enthusiasts and evangelical Protestants, and it casts these two very different groups as practically synonymous. It also shifts attention to the main area of deeper commonality they do share: an emphasis on individual responsibility. Responsible individuals often own guns, goes the argument, and why shouldn’t they? Irresponsible individuals sin too much, and they should stop.
When American Christians—of whatever political ilk—talk about sin, they usually mean the bad things a given person does. Everyone’s actions include some sinful ones; that assertion is uncontroversial. Yet this notion of discrete, individual sins makes it easy to maintain that while all have sinned, most can count on never sinning all that badly. From there it’s no big leap to a functional belief—all Protestant protestations aside—that some people are just better. Maybe not in the eyes of God, but for all practical purposes.
